


What They See

by mistysinkat



Series: Prompts and Drabbles [12]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, cullrian - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 13:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5206826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistysinkat/pseuds/mistysinkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian and Cullen see only the best in each other and only the worst in themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What They See

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted writing from Tumblr for the word "Altschmerz," which means weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had – the same boring flaws and anxieties that you’ve been gnawing on for years. 
> 
> I didn't really get to the weariness part. Just the anxieties. Whoops.

“Check,” Cullen announced as he moved his bishop into place, “Let’s see you get out of that.”

He leaned back in his seat then, tenting his fingers just below his stubbled jawline, eyes trained on the mage in front of him.

“Watch me,” Dorian replied lightly with a wink before his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the board in front of him.

Cullen loved watching the man think, watching the gears working out those creative solutions that often surprised him. If he’d been in Dorian’s shoes, he’d have moved that knight to challenge, but that was too… pedestrian a move for the nimble mind of Dorian Pavus. Too obvious. 

No, he never failed to surprise, whether in their chess games or outside of them. Slowly, so slowly, they’d cultivated a friendship since Dorian had literally crashed into him months ago when Corypheus was at their doorstep. Since then, he’d managed to shake up Cullen’s world in ways that were… unexpected, but not unwelcome. A wink here, some loaded innuendo there, a brief but so warm touch, friendship.

Yes, the man was an insufferable flirt, dangerous even, in the way he could make you  _believe_  it. And Cullen had believed it, cheeks warming at every comment, every bit of hinted affection. It wasn’t long after they’d come to Skyhold that Cullen knew he was falling, despite his best efforts not to.

But then he’d seen how Dorian was with everyone, and his stomach fell, too. He wasn’t special, after all. That was just Dorian’s way, his default behavior. Cullen knew there was a kind heart under all that affectation - maker, he’d watched the man enough to know that - and he’d desperately wanted that heart to be his. But this was fine. He could be friends. Friends were in short supply around here, anyway.

As he watched, Dorian moved his hand, hovering over the pieces, face lost in thought, before pulling it back.

_And how could you expect him to feel more than this for you? You’re lucky he spends time with you at all, considering who you are… what you’ve done._

Yes, Cullen was trying, but the things he’d done and said in past lives still haunted him. Calling for an annulment at Kinloch, convincing himself that mages were somehow lesser beings, not even people in his eyes. What a fool he’d been then. Hadn’t his own inaction at Kirkwall helped push this snowball down the mountain? Wasn’t he partly to blame for the avalanche that had engulfed them when Corypheus ripped the sky in two?

No, he didn’t deserve even this much attention from the bright, beautiful man in front of him. Dorian had overcome so much just to get here. He deserved far better than a man who’d been so consumed with fear he’d let it turn to hate.

This was fine. They’d be friends. They’d be friends, and Cullen would keep pushing those three words out of mind every time Dorian flashed him a smile or brushed his hand against his arm.

_I love him._

—————-

Dorian was glad the man across the table couldn’t read minds. He was lost in thought, but it had nothing to do with the chess match.

_I can’t expect more than this. Be happy he’s here and looking at you. Be happy he accepts you. Wanting more is selfish._

His world had changed, shifting on its axis when he met the Commander. A feeling, small and fluttery at first, had grown in his chest so quickly that it took his breath away.

But those feelings could never be validated, never returned. He knew that. He’d had his heart broken spectacularly enough in the past from just wanting more that he threw up his shields and boundaries effortlessly now. They were as much a part of him as that damn mole on his cheek.

But  _Cullen_. Cullen had caused them to crack. Shaking at their foundations every time he fell under the soft focus of those amber eyes.

_Kaffas, think about who you are, Dorian, what you are. A broken man. A bad man, at least where these things are concerned._

No, Dorian wasn’t worthy of the affections of the man who was now studying him with intent, likely trying to predict his next move in their game.

Dorian liked the way Cullen’s mind worked - steadfast and sure, comfort and consistency. He admired the way the man worked tirelessly to be better. Varric had taken Dorian aside when he’d first joined, to warn him about Cullen’s past, at least where Kirkwall had been concerned. He watched Cullen closely after that, purposefully spending time with him to get the measure of the man for himself..  and, truth be told, to see if he could get a rise out of him. Out him as a mage-hater, so to speak.

That had been a mistake, it seemed. The more Dorian got to know him, the more he saw the goodness in him, locked under that layer of duty and guilt. He saw a man working to atone. He saw a man working to make things  _right_.

And what was Dorian doing? Floundering. He helped the Inquisition to the best of his abilities, but he knew he was still deeply flawed. Selfish. Unworthy. His parents had beaten that knowledge into him most of his life, hadn’t they?

No, he couldn’t hope for more. So he tried to kill that fluttering feeling in his chest when the Commander was near, even as he sought him out. He choked back the words he really wanted to say to him. How could he tell someone like that, someone so bright and good, those three words that swirled around his head even now as he moved his queen into peril to avoid checkmate?

_I love him._


End file.
